Title: She lives on
Author: Mosquito
Date: 16-05-02
Rating: G
Summery: Scully dies, and Mulder is left to face what has happened
Author's note: I actually wrote this in 9th grade, and found it this morning while I was cleaning out my room for the packers.
"Agent Mulder!" Mulder came out of his daydream in a flash.
"Sorry, Sir, what were you saying?"
"Agent, you have not been listening to me, have you?" In front of Mulder stood his superior, Assistant Director Walter Skineer. "Agent Mulder, I know that it has only been 3 days since the funeral of Agent Scully, but the FBI does not tolerate this behavior."
"Sir?" Mulder asked. He knew that this was one of the type of days that he did not want to be in Skinner's office.
"Failure, feeling that it was your fault, deprive of strength."
Mulder was looking right into Skinner's eyes. The lean, white man who was head of his division of the bureau could not understand what he was going through.
"I know what it feels like to lose a partner, to lose him or her, and think that it is your fault…"
'Yeah right,' Mulder thought.
"Mulder… I want you to go see the counselor and take a vacation."
That grabbed Mulder's attention. If it was not for his rank in the FBI, Mulder would have punched Skinner right then and there. "What?! With all due respect, sir, I don't think that you know what it is like to lose a partner, a friend, the only one in this hell of a world who you trusted." Mulder stood up, moving towards the door he said, "I don't think you know what it feels like to lose the one you loved without telling them how much they meant."
With that he left the room. Going down the elevator he thought of going back to his office, then changed his mind and went to the first floor instead. He walked out the building and headed towards the Jefferson Memorial. Sitting down on the steps of the memorial, Mulder watched people walk by, hoping that Scully would just walk up to him and ask him what x- file he had dug up.
Someone did walk up to him, though it wasn't Scully, well, not his Scully. "I thought I mind find you here, Fox."
Fox? No one called him Fox, not even his mother; the only person was… Scully's mother. Mulder started to stand up.
"No, Fox, stay seated," Mrs. Sculls said sitting down next to him. "The last time you got up for me, you didn't sit down, and it strained my neck for a week."
Mulder laughed. He looked at the elderly lady with black hair, blue eyes, and far too pale skin. "You haven't been sleeping have you?" Mulder noticed the rims under her eyes.
"Much less sleeping at all… does it look that bad?" She replied.
Mulder smiled.
"Where have you been staying, Fox?" She asked. "I've been trying to reach you at home, but all I have gotten is the answering machine."
"I have been staying at Dana's lately. . . . Mrs. Scully, I just can't seem to get myself to understand that she is… gone. I still believe that at any moment she will walk into my office ready to tell me I'm out of my mind."
"Why did you not come to her wake?" Mrs. Scully asked.
"I couldn't. I… I…" The words wouldn't come out. He could not understand it himself much less explain it to her. He looked at her. His handsome face had formed two worry lines. She had seen them meany times before, but there was a certain look in his eyes that told her that something was wrong, something was making him feel uncomfortable. "You said that you'd been trying to reach me?" Mulder asked.
"Yes, I wanted to give you this," Mrs. Scully said as she reached into her long woolen coat pocket. Out she pulled something wrapped in a plastic bag. Handing it to Muler she told him, "Take it, it's something for your desk." Then she got up. "I have to go now, Mr. Skinner asked to see me. Oh, and Fox, before I forget, the will reading is tomorrow you need to come. So far I have heard that Dana left quite a lot in your trust." Then she walked off her head watching the ground as she walked.
Mulder looked at what Mrs. Scully had given him. Taking it out of the bag he froze. There, in his hands, sat a picture of Scully and him. They had taken the picture last year, when they had gone out to dinner to commemorate working together for 5 years. He ran his fingers along the frame and then got up and headed back to the office.
* * *
Mulder hated going down the elevator to his office, so he took the stairs. Not only was it les crowded going down he stairs, but it was in actuality closer to his office. These were all excuses though he used. In actuality, he just didn't want to stand and wait for the elevator while people looked at him in sympathy. Walking in, Mulder looked through the room. He didn't know what he was looking for he was just looking. Sitting down at his desk he looked up as someone knocked on his door.
"Come in," he said not expecting anyone.
"Mr. Mulder, there is an old Indian saying: something lives only as long as the last person who remembers it…. She is not dead yet."
"What do you mean that she is not dead?!" Mulder asked. His face was in a state of confusion. "I was at her funeral."
"Feeble minded you are, Mr. Mulder. She loves. You know it, I know it, believe it." With this he opened the door and left the room.
Mulder got up and ran to the door as fast as he could, but once he got to the door there was no one in the corridor.
'Where did he go?' Mulder asked himself, 'I am definitely going crazy.' Mulder walked back to his desk and unwrapped the photo of Scully and put it on his desk. Then he noticed the inscription on the frame. On it were the words: She will always live in our hearts. Mulder placed the photo next to that of his sister and got up. He picked up his coat and left his office. He locked the door as he always did, but this time he felt that he needed to do so more than ever, that Scully's picture needed to be locked up. It needed to be safe.
He locked up and headed for the exit sign, to where the real world lay.
End
Author: Mosquito
Date: 16-05-02
Rating: G
Summery: Scully dies, and Mulder is left to face what has happened
Author's note: I actually wrote this in 9th grade, and found it this morning while I was cleaning out my room for the packers.
"Agent Mulder!" Mulder came out of his daydream in a flash.
"Sorry, Sir, what were you saying?"
"Agent, you have not been listening to me, have you?" In front of Mulder stood his superior, Assistant Director Walter Skineer. "Agent Mulder, I know that it has only been 3 days since the funeral of Agent Scully, but the FBI does not tolerate this behavior."
"Sir?" Mulder asked. He knew that this was one of the type of days that he did not want to be in Skinner's office.
"Failure, feeling that it was your fault, deprive of strength."
Mulder was looking right into Skinner's eyes. The lean, white man who was head of his division of the bureau could not understand what he was going through.
"I know what it feels like to lose a partner, to lose him or her, and think that it is your fault…"
'Yeah right,' Mulder thought.
"Mulder… I want you to go see the counselor and take a vacation."
That grabbed Mulder's attention. If it was not for his rank in the FBI, Mulder would have punched Skinner right then and there. "What?! With all due respect, sir, I don't think that you know what it is like to lose a partner, a friend, the only one in this hell of a world who you trusted." Mulder stood up, moving towards the door he said, "I don't think you know what it feels like to lose the one you loved without telling them how much they meant."
With that he left the room. Going down the elevator he thought of going back to his office, then changed his mind and went to the first floor instead. He walked out the building and headed towards the Jefferson Memorial. Sitting down on the steps of the memorial, Mulder watched people walk by, hoping that Scully would just walk up to him and ask him what x- file he had dug up.
Someone did walk up to him, though it wasn't Scully, well, not his Scully. "I thought I mind find you here, Fox."
Fox? No one called him Fox, not even his mother; the only person was… Scully's mother. Mulder started to stand up.
"No, Fox, stay seated," Mrs. Sculls said sitting down next to him. "The last time you got up for me, you didn't sit down, and it strained my neck for a week."
Mulder laughed. He looked at the elderly lady with black hair, blue eyes, and far too pale skin. "You haven't been sleeping have you?" Mulder noticed the rims under her eyes.
"Much less sleeping at all… does it look that bad?" She replied.
Mulder smiled.
"Where have you been staying, Fox?" She asked. "I've been trying to reach you at home, but all I have gotten is the answering machine."
"I have been staying at Dana's lately. . . . Mrs. Scully, I just can't seem to get myself to understand that she is… gone. I still believe that at any moment she will walk into my office ready to tell me I'm out of my mind."
"Why did you not come to her wake?" Mrs. Scully asked.
"I couldn't. I… I…" The words wouldn't come out. He could not understand it himself much less explain it to her. He looked at her. His handsome face had formed two worry lines. She had seen them meany times before, but there was a certain look in his eyes that told her that something was wrong, something was making him feel uncomfortable. "You said that you'd been trying to reach me?" Mulder asked.
"Yes, I wanted to give you this," Mrs. Scully said as she reached into her long woolen coat pocket. Out she pulled something wrapped in a plastic bag. Handing it to Muler she told him, "Take it, it's something for your desk." Then she got up. "I have to go now, Mr. Skinner asked to see me. Oh, and Fox, before I forget, the will reading is tomorrow you need to come. So far I have heard that Dana left quite a lot in your trust." Then she walked off her head watching the ground as she walked.
Mulder looked at what Mrs. Scully had given him. Taking it out of the bag he froze. There, in his hands, sat a picture of Scully and him. They had taken the picture last year, when they had gone out to dinner to commemorate working together for 5 years. He ran his fingers along the frame and then got up and headed back to the office.
* * *
Mulder hated going down the elevator to his office, so he took the stairs. Not only was it les crowded going down he stairs, but it was in actuality closer to his office. These were all excuses though he used. In actuality, he just didn't want to stand and wait for the elevator while people looked at him in sympathy. Walking in, Mulder looked through the room. He didn't know what he was looking for he was just looking. Sitting down at his desk he looked up as someone knocked on his door.
"Come in," he said not expecting anyone.
"Mr. Mulder, there is an old Indian saying: something lives only as long as the last person who remembers it…. She is not dead yet."
"What do you mean that she is not dead?!" Mulder asked. His face was in a state of confusion. "I was at her funeral."
"Feeble minded you are, Mr. Mulder. She loves. You know it, I know it, believe it." With this he opened the door and left the room.
Mulder got up and ran to the door as fast as he could, but once he got to the door there was no one in the corridor.
'Where did he go?' Mulder asked himself, 'I am definitely going crazy.' Mulder walked back to his desk and unwrapped the photo of Scully and put it on his desk. Then he noticed the inscription on the frame. On it were the words: She will always live in our hearts. Mulder placed the photo next to that of his sister and got up. He picked up his coat and left his office. He locked the door as he always did, but this time he felt that he needed to do so more than ever, that Scully's picture needed to be locked up. It needed to be safe.
He locked up and headed for the exit sign, to where the real world lay.
End